


Far From You

by forgoodmeasure



Category: Raya and the Last Dragon (2021)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Slow Burn, Yearning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29879745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgoodmeasure/pseuds/forgoodmeasure
Summary: Six years after the Druun unleashed its plague onto the world, magic, glory, and peace are restored to the lands of Kumandra, thanks to the heroic efforts of Raya and and her band of oddball friends from the five warring nations.The new-found peace should have given Raya the solace she so desparately longs for after almost losing her father to the Druun. But all she could feel is the too-familiar anger in her heart, a remnant of the emotion that sustained her all these years. Anger towards Namaari, the first person to ever betray her.The Druun might have left, but the stone in her heart remains.
Relationships: Namaari/Raya (Disney)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 174





	1. Raya: The Unfinished Business

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Thank you for reading my fic. I'll have you know that, while I do read a lot of works in English, English is not my native language, so I apologize in advance if some of my sentences are poorly constructed. 
> 
> This is my fic of Raya x Namaari, who I thought had amazing chemistry even though in canon their relationship might never cross the threshold of platonic (because, Disney). I have likewise assigned Raya's ethnic group to Filipino (from the Philippines), and Namaari's to Thai (from Thailand), given my admittedly limited understanding of the passing cultures that were shown. We may differ in our views of this, and I may be wrong in the days to come when more is said about the film, but for the purpose of the story I am writing, and for consistency, I am sticking with these assignments until the conclusion of my story. 
> 
> Having finished the film, I thought I wanted more angst (and yearning), because I never got to see Namaari formally apologize to Raya for what she did when they were children. It gave me the opportunity explore that "unfinished business" and really do something different with the concept of "trust". The message of Disney is still true, however, albeit a bit naive, but I wanted to put a spin on it that myself and perhaps others might relate to more. Also maybe a bit more worldbuilding, because I thought it didn't show enough things about Southeast Asia, where I'm from. 
> 
> Thank you and I hope you'll have fun reading my story as much as I had fun writing it. 
> 
> 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It has always been how the sun rises over the hills and valleys of _Heart_ , tentative yet soon cruel in the glory of its blaze, that jolts Raya into sudden wakefulness. She feels the heat penetrating through the crevices of her _kubo_ , pressing itself incessantly on her eyelids, but she takes this quiet time to herself still, to gently ferry her mind away from the last dregs of her dreams, now forgotten, and slowly focus on the two faces that used to salve every bruise, every cut, every hurt: her father’s, and _Namaari_ ’s. _Hope and Rage_. To Raya, these were the exact _same_ things.

She expels a breath, reminding herself that _everything is okay_ now. She knows it’s silly to hold grudges, but her body can’t seem to undo these feelings that she perfected to a sharp point over the last six years, lingering still in her heart. She tries to turn her mind to her friend _Sisu_ – who recently insists to be called _Sis_ – and tries to recall the things she had been taught about _trust_.

Raya opens her eyes. Even without a mirror she knows exactly what they reflect: anger. She tries to talk herself out of it, her father would come knocking soon and probably ask her again why she now refuses to sleep in the comfort of their family’s citadel - the _Savidug Idjang_. Raya can’t exactly tell him that she has gotten used to sleeping by herself these last six years, and found silent comfort in it. Her father, being her father, would have a grief over it, and tell himself it had been his fault, even when it was _clearly_ Fang’s. People now say it had been a _miscalculation_ , Queen Virana had thought _hosting_ (Raya: claiming for themselves) the last dragon gem was the _only_ way to keep their lands from further drifting and eventually sinking to the bottom of the rivers. (Raya: they just want to keep expanding their territories).

The evening before, in the most recent _Feast of Kumandra_ , Fang was the host country, and of course, the Queen was nothing but a generous and gracious host (Raya: sketchy host). She even made proclamations that there will soon be treaties formed, more trade routes opened, and a promise of a better and transparent government. She wanted to completely dispel the idea that Fang was nothing but a country of assassins, working in shadow against the other nations. Raya’s father, Chief Benja, gobbled up her words – suspiciously like a lovesick puppy – clapping and cheering with all the other leaders while he sloshed his wine. Raya, however, kept her mouth shut throughout the meal, trying to kill the already dead meat on her plate with her eyes. But if she were honest with herself, she had to train her sight somewhere other than Namaari who sat opposite her, _taunting her_ with how chic she looked in her _Siwalai_ with her right shoulder completely bare, looking all toned and smooth under the glow of the fire. Raya herself came in Heart’s traditional robe reaching to the ankles, accented by mother’s jewelry that her father insisted she wore: a matching set of gold necklace and earrings, which gave her a terrible itch. She _looked nothing_ like Namaari (who kept trying to catch her eye), regal and comfortable in her clothes, as if she had a secret party to go to later, one where Raya was _definitely_ not invited.

“Hey, Raya, I want to show you something,” Namaari said after a while, realizing that stealing glances would not work on her anymore. Conversations around the table had turned muted and scattered at that point, the free-flowing wine making the adults less stiff and more open to conversing with ex-enemies.

Raya pretended not to hear and kept stabbing at her dinner.

Seated on Raya’s left was Sisu in her human form, nudging her with an elbow. _Quite annoyingly_ , Rayla had observed. Of all the attendees of the Feast, Raya thought it was Sisu who got the most out of it – sampling every dish, getting a VIP treatment (a warm bath _plus_ a talon pedicure) in Fang’s most luxurious and obviously royals-only spa, and a grand tour of the used-to-be-secret dragon museum to take a look at Fang’s inventory of dragon remnants collected by their scholars over the years, now of course ready for recording and registry. Raya _had_ wanted to go to the museum herself – she remained a dragon nerd after all – but of course, her pride got the better of her and she would rather get swallowed by the Druun than ask a ticket – if there was even one, or a more horrifying thought: a _favor_ from Namaari.

“You’re both deaf _and_ numb now?” Sisu’s voice was just a bit too loud, the dragon in her forgetting she didn’t have to bellow in a two-legged body. “What is it? The auntie has come again?” Raya shot her a disgusted look, understanding the code for “monthly period”. Her period stopped when the world first ended, from all the stress naturally, but now it’s back with a vengeance, coming in waves for several days every month, further souring Raya’s already foul mood.

Namaari, who was in the middle of drinking her pineapple juice – technically, she and Raya were still too young to drink – gave a stifled cough. Raya _finally_ looked at her, and there was the unmistaken glint of tease in her eyes. Had it been Sisu giving her that look, Raya would have laughed too, but of course, all she could do with the fire in her heart still burning, was glower.

Namaari cleared her throat, slowly putting her drink down. “Some of my friends had the same… _issue_. They would have hot flashes and fever for days, and of course… _temper tantrums,”_ She gave Raya another look, but her smile was less open now.

“You never lost your period?” Sisu asked, clearly interested in such a horrid topic.

“No,” Raya replied carefully.

“Man, _that’s_ great,” Sisu remarked, popping a slice of mango into her mouth. “Having perfect health in the middle of a world crisis is testament to the strength of one’s mind and body.” She raised her cup and made a sloppy toast against the air. Namaari blushed at the display of recognition, obviously still in awe of the dragon she used to idolize as a child. “Course, can’t say the same for my girl here who’s clearly –”

“Can we stop talking about this?” Raya interrupted, her voice a little shrill.

“Ohhhhh-kay,” Sisu mocked, mimicking Raya’s stabbing of her now-cold chicken corpse. _Dragonkind_ , as Raya would soon learn, lacked the distinctly-human behavior called – for the lack of a better word – _cynicism_. Raya thought dragons were too naïve, too open, too honest. _Too trusting_. She sometimes felt compelled to tell Sisu that that would be their kind’s downfall someday, but she would often hold back her tongue because Sisu was such a good friend to her, and it was, after all, Sisu’s, and later _her_ sacrifice, their respective acts of faith, that saved their world both times. Raya knew she could never argue with that, that _trust_ was a beautiful, legitimate, and _genuine_ thing, and in her heart of hearts she knew the pureness of it was what really saved the world, but now… _now_ that the dust has settled, Raya felt nothing but lost, a spindrift blown from the cresting waves of her residual anger.

“My mother has arranged for you and your father to stay the night,” Namaari said, unfazed. “I wanted to show you where your quarters would be because… you know,” She gestured at the direction of the main castle that had been fenced-off for restoration. “We’re _flipping_ the house,” she smiled at this, but Raya thought it looked a bit pained. “Anyway, so I chose the rooms myself, yours has this amazing view of –”

“We’re not staying,” Raya said, cutting her off.

“What? Of course we’re staying!” Sisu whined, flailing her arms dramatically. “They already showed me my room earlier and there’s this thing we need to do at the museum tomorrow –”

“Well, _I’m_ not staying.” Raya insisted, crossing her arms and slumping into her chair. She knew how childish she must have looked, and thought even con-baby would be disappointed in her, but she didn’t want to spend her night _at_ Fang’s. It was a terrible idea, and honestly, being around Namaari like that was draining her energy. She recalled their last swordfight in the castle, the ceiling coming down fast, the Druun not so far behind, but that was nothing compared to this… this _pleasantry_. Raya felt exhausted.

There was a thumping noise – and Raya looked to the head of the table where the Queen was seated, and to the Queen’s left, her father. Virana was calling everyone’s attention.

“My _friends_ ,” she began, and Raya felt the pricking of her nails against her palms as she fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I would like to express my deepest gratitude for your selection of Fang as this year’s host of the Feast, and for the kindness and acceptance you have showed my people and myself after…” Her voice trembled a bit, and there was a new shininess in her eyes that Raya suspiciously thought might be tears. “ _After_ the devastation caused by the Druun…”

…. _devastation YOU brought to this world,_ Raya wanted to say, a bitter-hot taste slowly forming in her mouth.

“…Our country vows to protect the _trust_ that –”

Raya’s nails dug deeper into her palms, drawing blood. She kept her head down, eyes trained to the floor, and her vision started to swim – and for one horrifying moment she thought she was going to pass out from her blind rage. And then she felt someone’s hand on her back, soft but firm. Sisu, obviously feeling the anger radiating from her body. _Fucking dragons_.

“… and so I would like to end this successful night with a _toast_ – for all that have returned, and for all that could still be,” Raya raised her eyes slowly, and saw that the Queen had hers locked in her daughter’s direction. Raya shot Namaari a quick glance, but Namaari’s head was bent down, refusing to look at her mother’s eyes. She had her palm pressed to her chest, as if she was holding something close to her, and for the briefest moment Raya felt a twinge of concern.

Wooden cups were raised and banged against each other, wine spilling down arms like blood. Shouts and whistles bounced off the walls. It was a gruesome sight, even though there was nothing mean in the looks being traded, nothing but content, happiness, and hope. Raya suddenly felt out of place, something sinister was writhing inside her, protesting against all the love and the warmth permeating the room, her _skin_.

“Let’s skedaddle,” Sisu whispered to her ear and Raya heard the understanding in her tone. Sooner or later she knew she would have to talk to her dragon friend about all these feelings, but at that moment, she only wanted the sky and the feel of the wind on her face.

Without so much as a backward glance, not even a goodbye to her father who saw her leave her chair, Raya turned around and walked away.

Had she looked, she would have seen the pain in her father’s eyes.

Had she looked further, she would have seen the same reflected in Namaari’s. 


	2. Sisu: A Magical Anomaly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls think they are so smart, but Sisu sees everything.
> 
> (plus a little more plot development, really excited about where I will take this story -- or where this story will take me)

From the tower of _Heart_ ’s citadel, Sisu spies Raya emerging from the hut, shoulders hunched as though being weighed down by a giant, invisible hand. She is followed closely by Tuk Tuk who appears to scuttle nervously behind her.

Sisu sighs. Her friend’s _seemingly_ self-imposed exile has drawn Raya further into herself, and further away from her father, and _her_. She remembers Raya telling her that it’s the _noise_ that made her leave the fort – too many overlapping voices, something always crashing and banging in the castle’s many empty rooms. But Sisu learned from the Chief that Raya used to run the halls screaming bloody murder. Sisu recalled the anguish in Benja’s eyes, of the realization that it was not just the years that were stolen from him by the Druun, but these little moments, these things about Raya that remain in his mind, clear as day, but obviously no longer part of his daughter – shoved into the void by anger and despair.

Quietly, Sisu laments these human griefs, but a part of her also just wants to give her friend a good _godsdamn_ shake.

… And she will do _exactly_ that, her dragon-eyes locked on Raya as the girl slogs through her routine.

This is what Sisu had gathered from the handmaid that arrived with the rest of the Heart’s convoy earlier that morning: The Chief’s horror of learning that _both_ Raya and the great dragon had fled, and the whispers that soon came after, traveling from the mouths of the guests, servants, and the residents that lived outside the royal grounds who were said to have cowered at the sudden gusts of wind that rattled the roofs of their homes. Later, after a cautious peep through the windows, others had gaped at the extraordinary sight of glittering scale, of talons as black as coal, and of the swishing of tail that cast temporary darkness _and absolute fear_ at the lands and into hearts of the people of Fang.

Most notably, however, was the frown on the Queen’s face, having only been notified of such an abrupt leave after the dragon had _crossed_ the border.

“If someone were brave enough to speak out,” the handmaid said, “They would have told her that what you did was an act of absolute disrespect.” Sisu, of course, was troubled by this, never mind the fact that a human just _passively-aggressively_ admonished a seven hundred-year old dragon (by dragon years though that would make Sisu a youngin, _barely_ a teenager, but that _was_ beside the point).

The Chief himself remains at Fang’s, undoubtedly trying to fix whatever _wrong_ interpretation their sudden departure had slipped into the minds of the royal family and the guests of the Feast.

Sisu sighs again, and with a sudden rush of determination, she leaps, her body spinning as she transforms to her true form, the wind catching and enveloping her like an attentive dance partner. She begins to ride the currents that swiftly propel her upwards, giving her a glimpse of the glorious sun, before letting her twist and fall gracefully, slowly at first, then faster, a dragon breaking through the clouds, plunging boldly back to Earth, herself at gravity’s mercy.

Raya has gotten used to this _flair_ of hers (something that Sisu adamantly denies having even though she secretly loves the clapping and _ahh-_ ing from those who were lucky enough to witness her “landing”), that the girl barely spares her a glance before picking up a wet cloth to rub the remaining sleep off her face. For a moment, Sisu merely watches her perform this mundane human task, and she thinks – on more than occasion – how pitiful it is that humans no longer have that magic within them that makes them more… _entertaining_ to watch. At the very least, make them shimmer. 

_Seven hundred years_ , Sisu thinks, and _yet_ , humans still somehow _elude_ her. Of course times have undoubtedly changed since the last time she had been awake like this – there was _less animosity_ , for one, but Raya is… what do they call it? _A real piece of work_. Painfully human, with _maaaaybe_ the tiniest speck of magic what with her quick reflex and the way she swings her sword like a third limb, but still, _very much_ human. And yet in that itsy bitsy tiny frame of hers she packs an entire universe of complexities and contradictions. Sisu will never get it, the way Raya torments herself so much when she could simply… _not_.

“Come on,” Raya urges, marching toward the _Kalios_ tree where around its fat trunk her favorite pair of _arnis_ , clearly worn-out and uneven in shape, is tightly tied with twine. Sisu wagers they are still warm to the touch, having heard – all night, mind you – the familiar, and maybe just a little bit angry, _swoosh_ of wood against air. “I need you to be my sparring partner today.”

“I am your _only_ sparring partner,” Sisu counters but follows her (if begrudgingly) to the small clearing where Raya does her informal training: General martial arts and whatnot. She raises three fingers. “Three duels. And then we’ll talk. Like, _really_ talk.”

Sisu would also remind her friend later that she _did_ not ever agree to this … okay, maybe a few times, sure, only because it was fun, but to Sisu these _duels_ are simply _dance_ – evading attacks from Raya while basking under the warmth of the sun.

The pure magic within her lets her predict Raya’s movements for a fraction of a second before they land, but even at such disadvantage, and without any hope of Raya ever landing her blows, the girl is absolutely convinced that “dancing with a dragon” would vastly improve her melee skills. Sisu thinks Raya is still _way_ far off, but she likes to coax out that tiny speck within Raya that sometimes gives her that faint bluish shimmer. Only Sisu’s kind _sees_ this magic dust, but there are other times when humans _can_ feel magic, albeit subconsciously, and only ever intermittently: in the sudden spring in their step, or when they _just_ know a loved one is hurting.

 _Maybe I should tell her_ , Sisu abruptly thinks as she stretches her legs. _Would that change Raya’s feelings towards Namaari?_ The moment the thought crosses her mind, Sisu hears the stern voice of her older brother Pengu reverberating inside her skull –

 _Never meddle in the affairs of humans_.

Ironically, the first of their kind had actually _lain_ with humans, to give them the gift of magic and help them be more… _attuned_ to nature and work out certain mysteries that are not easily discernable through human eyes. In exchange, they will grant the dragonkind autonomy of certain lands, those most abundant in magic, for these places sustain the dragons’ powers. Unfortunately, a group of humans decided to get rid of the dragons and take these lands for themselves, unwittingly using their mixed blood to _create_ their own magic, a forbidden act of alchemy. Wars broke out, but in the end there was peace. But with pledge of harmony, magic was taken back from humans permanently. Without dragons continually gifting humans, the old magic in human blood fizzled-out for every turn of the generation. Thousands of years later, right around the time when the first of Kumandra’s volcanoes erupted, and the lava had hardened to become the lands of the five nations, that magic was reduced to a mere speck of dust – just a dot, really. Sisu would catch a flicker of blue here and there, but the _memory_ of magic, of what it can do, was, by then, already completely erased from the human mind.

Not that anyone’s asking, but if they were, Sisu thinks it’s a _godsdamn_ waste.

“Ready,” Raya calls. And so they start to dance.

There is _another_ kind of dance that Sisu heavily – but for now secretly – enjoys, one that none of the dancers are even aware that’s already happening, even if, as someone from another universe in an osbcure moment in time would say: the volume of the radio playing their sullen mixtape is cranked up really high.

These girls think they are _so_ cunning, their acts _so_ covert, but another fun fact about dragons? They _never_ _ever_ miss a thing. Sisu sees them, all those body movements, the little gestures only Sisu can see, like the way Raya turns her head _ever so_ slightly, listening to Namaari’s footfalls, or the way Namaari catches her breath without parting her lips, whenever she and Raya run into each other. That one time, during a joint democratic mission, their two bodies crammed in that narrow passage leading to the entrance of _Tail_ , how both of them were hyperaware of the skin contact, the hairs on their arms sticking up from the electric shock of each accidental touch, _each spot_ hot, branded, _marked_. And the burn in their cheeks that lasted for _days_.

Sisu _sees_ them all.

Well… that was up until the Feast, during Raya’s _almost_ meltdown and that cryptic speech of the Queen – Sisu _thought_ she can see everything. But there had been that moment, when Namaari was silently suffering, her mind shooting off at several directions at once, scrambling for the best way she can make Raya stay, and _maybe_ tell her _something else_ – Sisu had not been sure, well, she’s even more _not_ sure now, but at that moment, well, she thought… unless her dragon-eyes deceived her, which they _most certainly_ could have, she thought… Namaari had glowed.

But she did not _just_ glow.

Her whole body lit up like a _godsdamned_ dragon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap! I didn't think this chapter would be this long. The tangents my mind sometimes takes...  
> Anyway, obviously Namaari is up next, and I think I want to squeeze some sapphic hearts a tiny bit
> 
> I appreciate the wonderful comments so far! Let's be miserable together in our journey to the world of angst. 
> 
> Once more, thank you for reading, and apologies for any poorly-constructed sentences!
> 
> 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤


	3. Namaari: A Hundred Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone maybe teach Namaari how to woo a woman.

“ _Then let me take the first step._ ”

Namaari’s mind wanders, as it often does these days, these days of unbroken peace. Having moved back to the mainland after retaking Fang’s territories from the clutches of Druun, Namaari hardly hears the splashes of the canals anymore, the creaks and groans of ships left unmoored, or the seagulls squawking overhead, waking her up every morning, her own mind circling to the same thoughts, and those _godsforsaken_ words.

“Princess Namaari?” Namaari startles, catching herself from her trance. It’s the _salakot_ the Heart woman wears that got her momentarily dazed, her mind drifting off to more… _pleasant_ times, when Namaari was always certain of the fire hiding beneath the cone-shaped hat. Of the fire that used to rival her _own_. Now… a different kind of heat consumes her, _disquiets_ her, and Namaari doesn’t like it, _not one bit_.

“Sorry I was… spacing out,” Namaari smiles at the woman. The woman bows, raising both hands above her head, the tips of her fingers meeting to form a circle – Kumandra’s common way of greeting. Namaari returns the gesture, matching the deference.

“I brought the scripture you requested,” The woman says, pulling a rolled-up parchment from the folds of her dress. The seal that secured the paper to its shape had long been broken, the creases an indication it had changed many hands over the years. “Chief Benja extends his gratitude for your interest in the many cultures of Heart, and hopes this would further your study and help you with any of your questions about our people.” The woman bows deeper, extending both arms in the act of offering a gift.

Namaari nods and gently accepts the scripture, heavy and rough in her hands, trying to contain her excitement. One of her Queen-mother’s attempts at reform: establishing a single school for the children of Kumandra. As daughter and heir, she will do whatever she can to make that a reality.

Not for any other reasons, mind. It’s _not_ like, she has an interest whatsoever about the Princess of Heart. _Nope_. Still… shouldn’t hurt to know the recipe of the braised pork that the princess seems to favor a lot. _For research_.

The woman gives another bow and retreats from the room, allowing Namaari to go back to her raging thoughts. The previous evening had been a complete disaster, all her _planning_ wasted. And it would have been perfect too, finally a time _just for themselves_ , for the two of them to… _well_ , Namaari hadn’t exactly planned that far, all her energy singularly focused on just making Raya stay the night.

What _did_ she even want anyway? It’s not like Raya would just _open up to her_ , after being so hostile these last few months. Well? Did she really think they can become friends again when all they ever knew to do was hate each other?

“ _Then let me take the first step._ ”

Was it really just a fluke then? Was it merely the desperation and the fear that made Raya completely trust her, that one time? The gentle way she held her hand as she passed the piece of dragon gem, and the look they shared – did it mean _nothing_ , after all?

Namaari absently reaches for the gold dragon brooch that now hangs around her neck, frustrated at the lack of answers. The thing is always just a bit warm, and Namaari finds quiet comfort in it, how it always manages to calm her mind when she can’t do it herself.

She had lost the brooch to Raya years ago and was secretly pleased that the Princess of Heart had taken good care of it despite their … _differences_. When it was returned to her, Namaari thought she should do something _for_ Raya to express her own appreciation, but the days following the defeat of the Druun became a whirlwind of activities: the rebuilding of Fang, rehabilitation of towns that were completely destroyed, the treaty with Heart and the other nations for the re-establishment of Kumandra … Namaari had been part of it all, she hasn’t exactly been able to put up her feet yet. Every day there is something that needed to be done, and every time she _thinks_ she has a moment to herself, she suspects she missed or forgot some responsibility.

“You shouldn’t push yourself too hard, _my little morning mist_ ,” The Queen had warned, gently but firmly, the lines around her eyes and mouth deepening with that all-too familiar concern. Namaari hated that look, _hates it_ still, but she had acquiesced, at least for one night, and this gave her the time to write her very first letter to Raya.

 _There’s a hundred of them now_ , Namaari thinks wistfully, glancing at the hearth where she threw them away, convinced that _if_ she burned them, then her feelings would cease from her mind and heart as well.

_Well… there is that one letter still…_

Namaari recalls the time she had gone over to Heart for a joint meeting with Chief Benjan, the _cursed_ letter tucked safely to her chest, hot against her sweating skin. Raya hadn’t shown up in the meeting – _one of the many disappointments for Namaari in the days to come_ – and was later told that the princess had been meditating all day in the sacred temple where the dragons took their last stand, and where Namaari first betrayed Raya.

What a fitting place, Namaari had thought then. The place where their paths first diverged… had it really _only_ been six years? To Namaari it felt like a whole lifetime ago. Secretly, she was grateful her mother had let her chase the dragon scroll thief. Otherwise, her and Raya’s paths wouldn’t have overlapped, just run parallel against each other, slightly within reach but never touching.

Namaari’s steps had taken a sudden fervor then, those swirling thoughts of their destinies merging as they were – _how naïve they are now to her of course_ – pushing her to climb faster, the thickened, gnarly roots nothing but pillows under her trained feet. Pausing at the circular entrance of the sacred temple, chest heaving, Namaari began probing the crevices of the walls with her fingers while her eyes searched the ceiling looking for spots where a good trap might lay in wait. She doubted there would be any left, no dragon gem to guard now after all, but with Raya just a few feet ahead… Namaari refused to take any chances.

Satisfied that she would not die before her letter reached Raya – _and how mortifying would that be!_? – Namaari started navigating the narrow tunnels that led to the set of stairs where she then hastily removed her dress shoes, _suddenly unable to wait any longer_ …

At the top of the stairs was Raya, sitting with her back turned to her, arms around her knees, head tilted upwards. _Of course she wasn’t meditating_ , Namaari had thought then, the absurdity of it bringing an unexpected smile to her lips. She must have made a noise because Raya’s head suddenly whipped around.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Raya demanded, cheeks flushed and eyes burning. Namaari watched her advance towards her, noting the clench of her fists, and how deliberately slow her steps were, like she was ready to pounce, body poised for a fight. It was all too familiar to Namaari that her chest actually constricted at the sight of her.

Her confidence had crumbled then, an image of two lines crossing then separating flashing in her mind. Swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth, Namaari said, “Well… I just wanted to see for myself if you were really meditating. Didn’t occur to me that princesses around here are allowed to avoid responsibilities and just go off daydreaming.” Namaari would regret saying those words later, as she would come to regret so many other things, but at the time, she knew turning words into knives was the only way she could connect with Raya. _That_ , or with their blades.

Raya huffed. “Look at you being all high-and-mighty. _Oh, so you’re now busy fixing the world huh_? Guess that should offset all the thieving, backstabbing … and oh – before I forget – the _annihilation of the world_ because you’re one of the good guys now.”

And then _she_ was angry. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” Raya taunted, closing the distance between them. “Well then, please enlighten me, _Princess Undercut_.”

They had looked at each other then, and Namaari saw the muscle leaping in Raya’s tightening of her jaw, suggesting of things left unsaid, but it _had been_ Namaari’s move. Raya was done taking the first step, and if Namaari had chosen to, she could have ended the chasm growing between them right there, in the place where it all began. She could have just given the _fucking_ letter.

And Namaari would have, had she not caught the subtle shift in Raya’s eyes. It was fleeting, but there was no mistaking it: _Raya was pleading with her to end it_.

_Tell me you’re sorry and I’ll forgive you. Just say you’re sorry and we can be friends again._

If rewinding time was something one was capable of doing, Namaari would have given her soul to the devil for it, but at that moment, her _pride_ had gotten the best of her, and there was something else: _She wouldn’t be able to bear Raya’s pity without her completely undoing_.

And so in the end, she chose _violence_.

“I don’t owe anyone any explanation, _dep la_ ,” Namaari scoffed. “Least of all you. We all make our choices, and those choices can sometimes be dirty. Sometimes they can be hard. But I _did_ them, and I know what it had cost me.” _What it had cost us._ “At least _I_ don’t go around demanding people’s apologies all the while pretending I didn’t have my own selfish reasons. Let’s be real, Princess. You only wanted to take your _Ba_ back. You never _really_ cared about saving other people. Or Kumandra. Well, if you hadn’t been naïve and weak, Fang wouldn’t have been able to take your precious gem. Do you remember how _fucking easy it was_?”

Namaari had almost missed the punch coming from her left. In a hand-to-hand combat, Namaari knew she had the advantage, as melee training was something Fang had heavily invested in its children. She instinctively blocked the blow with her left arm, and without missing a beat, she gripped and pulled Raya’s with her right hand until they were close enough for her to see the freckles that dotted her nose. “Still. Fucking. Weak.” She let go then, the force sending Raya to the floor.

“Stay down, Raya. Your father would be extremely disappointed with you if you’re the first to break the pact. No more fights between nations remember?”

“You are _despicable_ ,” Raya had replied, almost spitting the words. “Don’t come near me ever again.”

“Don’t worry Princess,” Namaari countered, her tone equally cutting. “Wouldn’t wanna ruin this whole emo thing you’ve got going for you. And I’m pretty sure if you keep this up, it’s not _only me_ who’s going to stay away.”

It was only later when Namaari had reached the edge of the forest did she realize her cheeks had been wet.

****

**_Letter #2_ **

_Do you remember that day in the sacred temple? I said so many mean things and I want to take back. Will you let me?_

**_Letter #10_ **

_Hi Princess, today I met this little girl who reminded me of you when we we’re eleven, except she was cuter HAHA … Not that I EVER THOUGHT you were cute, I mean, you did look decent as a kid, your front braids were kinda adorable – I MEAN, but my undercut is superior…_

**_Letter #23_ **

_I don’t understand why you are especially mad at me today. If it’s about that damned jackfruit jerky, FIRST OF ALL, NOBODY WANTS TO EAT THEM OK, so don’t blame JUST ME for not eating them especially when there’s a whole plate of fresh spring rolls right there. SECOND OF ALL, if you didn’t spend the entire time avoiding me you would have seen me FINISH ONE WHOLE JERKY and my stomach hurt the ENTIRE DAY because I didn’t want to let you down…_

**_Letter # 37_ **

_I wish you’d just let me fix this._

**_Letter # 1_ **

_Raya,_

_You are the bravest person I know. Remember when we were kids and there was this really heavy tension between the leaders because of what your Ba said about Kumandra and you were like, “Who’s hungry?!” Even then I knew I could never be as brave as you. And many years later, you completely trusting me even though I betrayed you again, it was the greatest gift I could ever hope for._

_Do you want to hear a story?_

_Once upon a time, there was a little girl who was not meant to live. Her heart was weak, and her mother cried all night, begging the physician to do something. But he only shook his head and told the mother that the girl would last no more than five sunsets. And so the mother rode, first to the south, begging for the First King’s help, but there was nothing he could do, so she rode north, but the Second King merely shook his head. She then rode to the desert, but the Queen merely wept with her. Finally, she went to the last King, the King of the Rivers, and he told her about a dark magic. A magic that will give her daughter a new heart. Desperate, the mother made a deal with the King, a deal yet to be collected, and the King took her to the mountains where a man lived. The man made the little girl a heart out of the mother’s blood and a piece of stone – the last piece he had – but it was not perfect and would only last 10 years. The man told the mother that she had another choice: find an object imbued with dragon magic and keep it near her child. The mother rode fast and hard on the last day, and before the final ray of light touched the mountains, they put the heart into the little girl, and she lived._

_Growing up, the little girl hated the adults hovering around her, catching her every time she fell and scratched her knee. And so she decided to become stronger, stronger than anyone. Her mother made good with her promise to find all the magical objects that remained in their world. Some gave the little girl years, others, mere hours. When the last piece was drained of magic, the mother was left no choice but to steal the dragon gem from the First King. But alas, destiny had a different plan after all._

_I have always lived on borrowed time, Raya, and when I put together the broken pieces of Sisudatu’s gem, the raw magic it held when we activated it kickstarted my fake heart. I don’t know how many more years it has given me, my mother is of course incredibly happy about it, but I know it will only be a matter of time before the dragons discover the anomaly inside my body, and if our history is right, they will take it from me. I will not fight against it, being alive for eighteen years when I should have only lasted for five days is more than I have earned… but before I go, would you like to hang out?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Virina's character kinda confused me. We know that she is actually devious in her ways (using her daughter both times to steal from Raya), but then she looks so chill and kind and loving? Is this Disney moving away from two-dimensional villainous characters maybe? Idk, I just thought there was something deeper there, so I added this element in my story. Let me know what you think?
> 
> Namaari & her letters = gay disaster, amirite? 
> 
> Once again, many thanks for the kudos and wonderful comments.
> 
> 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤


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